


5 Times Combeferre Comforted A Crying Enjolras, + 1 Time Enjolras Comforted A Crying Combeferre

by GEGabriels



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguments, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Exhaustion, Fever, Fluff, Gen, Good Friend Combeferre, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Minor Injuries, Sickfic, at one part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels
Summary: "Hey, what's wrong?" Combeferre asked in a hushed tone. Enjolras blinked at him, Combeferre slightly shocked at the tears pricking in his best friend's eyes. Enjolras rarely cried. It just wasn't something Enjolras did. Even from an early age, Combeferre could recall Enjolras being the one kid who could fall off the monkey bars, and simply get back up again, not a single tear shed.Exactly what the title sounds like.
Relationships: Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	5 Times Combeferre Comforted A Crying Enjolras, + 1 Time Enjolras Comforted A Crying Combeferre

**5 Times Combeferre Comforted A Crying Enjolras, + 1 Time Enjolras Comforted A Crying Combeferre**

**1**.

Combeferre wasn't prone to cursing. He actually saw it as lazy. Surely there was some other sort of way to get your point across without having to randomly shout profanities? However, he thought that his choice of words in regards to the current situation was justified. What else was one supposed to say when one's friend came back to their apartment covered in blood and rainwater, while shivering? Rewinding on what had happened.

Combeferre had been sitting on the living room couch in his apartment, minding his own business, like a normal human being, while reading a book. Enjoying the peace and quiet he finally had been granted, as Courfeyrac and Enjolras, his two annoying best friends, who he somehow felt both constant exasperation, and never ending love towards, were both out on dates with their boyfriends. There was no Courfeyrac to randomly talk, or perform a dramatic (And usually rather inappropriate) version of a Disney song. There was no Enjolras to shout about social injustices. Combeferre was simply left in peace. And then, the front door suddenly opened.

"Hello," Combeferre started, standing from the couch, his book slipping down onto the cushion. It was probably Enjolras, who was supposed to be back from his date with Grantaire any minute now. Combeferre froze, as he looked towards the doorway. It was indeed Enjolras. But Enjolras was trembling violently, his shirt torn, and stained with blood.

"What the shit, Enjolras?!" Combeferre rather eloquently put it, Enjolras giving him a weak smile, not moving from his position in the doorway.

"Some rich kids, I think. Was walking home, caught in the rain, and they got me. Didn't like what I said about their parents during one of my speeches," Enjolras quickly explained, Combeferre rushing over, and examining Enjolras from head to toe.

"You're covered in cuts…" He said, Enjolras shrugging in response. Combeferre sighed, muttering a few things about his friends self-preservation skills, and how he really should have taken those boxing lessons from Bahorel, while gently running his fingers alongside a long cut on his blonde friend's arm. "Come on," Combeferre pulled Enjolras into the house, Enjolras frowning,

"I'll drip water everywhere," He protested, Combeferre crossing his arms, and giving Enjolras a raised eyebrow in response. Enjolras had nothing to say in return to that, knowing, as he was quite adept in the language of Combeferre, that he would do best to simply listen to Combeferre. Enjolras limped towards the couch, barely able to put any weight on his right foot. Combeferre, of course, noticed this, and mentally noted it, as he made his way to the kitchen, washing his hand thoroughly, before pulling out the largest box of band-aids they had, antiseptic cream, and a few cotton swabs. He also grabbed new clothing from Enjolras' room, not wanting his friend sitting in sopping wet clothing any longer than he had to.

"Thanks, Combeferre," Enjolras murmured, as Combeferre returned to his friend's side, and began gently working on Enjolras' cuts and scrapes.

"Any time, my friend," Combeferre replied, affectionately running his fingers through Enjolras' curly hair, only having them snag on a tangle once or twice, which was quite a miracle, considering the state Enjolras' hair was usually in at 8:00 pm, which was what the clock on the wall read. He finished on the cuts after about 15 minutes, and, after briefly enquiring if Enjolras planned on reporting the kids who attacked him (The answer was no, because Enjolras was both stupid and stubborn like that), questioned the state of Enjolras' right foot.

"I noticed you limping," Combeferre said, Enjolras sighing,

"Yeah, I think I may have sprained it," He responded. Combeferre nodded, taking Enjolras' foot, which Enjolras had removed the shoe from while he was getting dressed, onto his lap. He applied a small amount of pressure to the area, which was looking quite swollen, and Enjolras hissed, leaning his head against Combeferre's neck. Combeferre bit his lip, adjusting his spectacles.

"I think you broke it," He assessed, Enjolras' eyes widening.

"No… It's not broken… Just… Sprained," He weakly insisted, Combeferre sighing for what may have been the thirtieth time that night.

"I'm going to call Joly to pick us up," Combeferre firmly stated. Courfeyrac was the only out of the Triumvirate, as their friends so fondly called them, with a car, so Combeferre and Enjolras had to rely on other friends with cars for rides, when they needed them. And 30 minutes later found them both in the backseat of Joly's car, on the way to the hospital. Joly was lecturing Enjolras loudly about something revolving around broken feet. But Combeferre wasn't paying attention to Joly. He was instead paying attention to the fact that Enjolras seemed to be on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Combeferre asked in a hushed tone. Enjolras blinked at him, Combeferre slightly shocked at the tears pricking in his best friend's eyes. Enjolras rarely cried. It just wasn't something Enjolras did. Even from an early age, Combeferre could recall Enjolras being the one kid who could fall off the monkey bars, and simply get back up again, not a single tear shed. Of course, Combeferre had seen Enjolras cry before, though, particularly when he was feeling overwhelmed. Enjolras was probably feeling overwhelmed at the current moment, Combeferre was willing to bet, after being beat up, and most likely ending up with a broken bone. Not to mention the fact that Enjolras' hair was still damp. And Enjolras hated being wet.

"You know how much I hate hospitals," Enjolras whispered, his voice rough, with a tearful edge. Combeferre nodded, giving a small, "Oh." Enjolras didn't have fond memories of hospitals. Then again though, who does? But Enjolras had some particularly horrible stuff happen there.

"I know," Combeferre murmured, Enjolras letting out a small whimper of pain, as the car ran over a bumpy patch of road, despite looking like he desperately wanted to keep the sound in.

"I just-" Enjolras murmured, his face crumpling, and tears slipping down his face, as his breath came out in pants. Combeferre, knowing Enjolras the way he did, simply reached over the middle seat of the back of the car, which was empty, taking Enjolras' hand into his. Enjolras breathing evened out, though tears still slid out of his eyes. He gave Combeferre a grateful look, Combeferre giving him a warm smile in response. The two continued holding hands, while Joly pretended he hadn't seen any of this through the rear-view mirror from the driver's seat.

**2.**

Why is it every time Combeferre finally got the time to curl up in his bed with a book, something happened? Combeferre desperately wanted to know the answer to that, so that he could send Bahorel after whomever had decided that was a good thing to put into Combeferre's life. Anyways, Combeferre had been sitting at the kitchen island with Jehan, Courfeyrac's boyfriend. He and Jehan had been discussing current events, when the front door had been wildly thrown open, after the lock was fumbled with for about ten seconds, and Enjolras and Grantaire had come storming in.

_"Oh, and there he is, all high and mighty and above us mortals again, what makes you think the names a compliment, hm?!"_

_"GET OUT GRANTAIRE!"_

_"Hah, yeah, make me, short-stack."_

_"This is MY apartment."_

_"Jesus Christ, I get it, Apollo."_

_"Y'know what, if you can't appreciate who I really am, we're through!"_

_"Enjolras-"_

_"GET OUT GRANTAIRE!"_

_"Fine!"_ The front door was slammed shut by Grantaire, as he exited the apartment, a cloud of anger following him. Combeferre had looked at Jehan with wide eyes.

"Uh, I should probably go-" Jehan murmured, grabbing his phone and purse, quickly making his way out of the apartment. Combeferre was left to deal with his blonde friend, who was practically radiating rage. Combeferre tapped his friend's shoulder, Enjolras taking the spot that Jehan had previously been sitting in, sensing some sort of long advice coming from Combeferre. And his senses were entirely correct. If there was one thing Combeferre was known for, other than his sarcasm, and intellect, it was his advice. Courfeyrac had once teasingly called Combeferre "The Group Therapist." And no one had contradicted him.

"What was that all about?" Combeferre slowly asked, recovering from the scene he had previously witnessed. Enjolras simply shrugged, slumping in his seat.

"Something stupid," He said, Combeferre nodding,

"And, what was this stupid thing?" He questioned. Enjolras let out a long sigh, giving Combeferre a desperate look. If there was one thing Enjolras hated more than anything else, it was talking about his feelings. Unless his feelings were feelings of anger. He liked talking about feelings of anger.

"I was fed up with him calling me Apollo. Because I'm _not_ some sort of God, Ferre. Why can't anybody see this?! I'm sick of it, I'm sick of it all," Enjolras' breath hitched, as he finished the last line, and Combeferre gently rubbed his back, as Enjolras turned his head away from Combeferre, sobs heaving through his body. Enjolras turned his brilliant blue eyes towards Combeferre's calming hazel, "What if I've lost Grantaire forever? I told him that we're through… What do I do?" Combeferre stroked the side of Enjolras' tear-stained face,

"What do you think you should do?" He asked, Enjolras wrinkling his nose,

"Apologise…" He muttered, spitting out the word like it was something bitter. Enjolras had never been fond of apologies. Combeferre resisted the urge to chuckle,

"Yes, I think an apology from both parties is definitely in order," He confirmed, standing up from his chair to pour both himself and Enjolras a glass of water.

"What else?" Enjolras asked, knowing there was more. Combeferre smiled, setting the glass of water for Enjolras' down on the island, in front of the man, and taking a sip from his own.

"I do believe there's a need for an honest conversation between you and Grantaire as well," Combeferre said, Enjolras frowning, "Come now, being in a relationship means there's a need for honest conversation sometimes. It comes with the deal." Enjolras nodded,

"I know you're right," He murmured, Combeferre smirking, and crossing his arms,

"I'm always right," He replied, Enjolras raising an eyebrow,

"Arrogance, much?" He joked, Combeferre grinning,

"Oh no, my friend, that was my impersonation of you," He said, Enjolras rolling his eyes. Enjolras then slipped down from his chair, embracing Combeferre.

"I'm getting too old for you to always be helping me with my ridiculous problems," Enjolras muttered, his face pressed into Combeferre's chest. Combeferre simply smiled,

"You will never be too old for that, Enjolras."

**3.**

There are certain ways exhaustion can manifest in a person. It can make them hyper, or extremely lethargic. It can make them slightly touchy. Or it can make them downright devils. Enjolras was, unfortunately, one of the "downright devils" when he didn't get enough sleep. Which was often. However, Enjolras usually was able to get at least three hours of sleep a night. But he hadn't, the past few nights. And everyone knew it.

A well-rested Enjolras was radiant, top-of-his-game, and maybe the slightest bit scary. An exhausted Enjolras was touchy, emotional, and _very_ scary. Everybody had known to keep their distance from him when he stormed into the Musain that morning, with dark shadows under his eyes, donning a murderous expression. Joly and Bossuet had instantly turned their heads towards Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire, as Enjolras sat down in the corner, as if asking them if they were going to do anything. Combeferre gave a small shake of his head. There was no way he'd be able to convince Enjolras of anything in public.

"Alright, I call the meeting to a start," Enjolras announced from the corner. The meeting mainly went smoothly, and Combeferre relaxed, thinking that there wouldn't be any incidents. And then, of course, Marius Pontmercy opened his mouth. Now, Combeferre usually didn't mind Marius. In fact, he saw Marius' rather… Interesting way of looking at things a valuable asset to the Les Amis, despite the fact that Marius tended to be quite oblivious in certain situations. However, Marius really needed to learn when to shut his mouth.

"Uh, Enjolras," Marius said suddenly, raising his hand. Combeferre frowned, exchanging glances with Grantaire, who raised an eyebrow in response.

" _What_ , Marius!?" Enjolras, who had been in the middle of speaking, snapped. Marius, who couldn't take a clue, began speaking,

"So, the statistics you were stating contrast to what the article we were talking about actually stated… See it read here-" Marius was cut off by Enjolras slamming his hands down on the table Marius, Bahorel, and Feuilly were sitting at.

"I spent an _hour_ reading the article and copying down the statistics, they're _right_ ," Enjolras growled, Marius still pressing on,

"But, uh… They're not," He pointed out, holding up his phone, which had the actual article on it. Enjolras' cheeks reddened, and Bahorel and Feuilly slowly moved their chairs backwards. Combeferre prepared to defend Marius, if necessary, not wanting to leave Cosette without a boyfriend.

" _They. Are._ Now, _leave_ ," Enjolras hissed, Marius giving Courfeyrac a frantic look. Courfeyrac gave him a short nod in response, Marius quickly grabbing his bag, and fleeing the Musain, at least having some sort of self-preservation instinct. Enjolras opened his mouth to speak some more, Combeferre quickly jumping to his feet,

"Meeting's over!" He called, the other Les Amis members letting out sighs of relief. Enjolras, meanwhile, was outraged,

" _What_?! No, it's not," He exclaimed, Combeferre shaking his head, and giving him a pointed look. Grantaire walked over to Combeferre,

"You dealing with Enj?" Grantaire asked, Combeferre nodding. Grantaire gave a simple chuckle, patting Combeferre's shoulder,

"Good luck." Combeferre had never thought much of the cynic before, but had grown to like him, as Grantaire started dating Enjolras. They had grown closer by venting to each other the day-to-day frustrations of being close to a certain blonde.

"Hah," Combeferre said, Grantaire grinning, and kissing an increasingly infuriated Enjolras' cheek, before leaving the Musain entirely.

"Combeferre-" Enjolras weakly started, Combeferre shaking his head,

"I don't want to hear it. What you said to Marius was entirely unacceptable. I understand that you're frustrated, but there are better ways to express your emotions then by threatening people," Combeferre firmly stated, Enjolras scowling. Combeferre sighed. Sometimes it honestly felt like he was trying to reason with a toddler, "Let's go home, hm?" Enjolras just shrugged, Combeferre grabbing his arm, and literally tugging his best friend out of the Musain. They talked lightly about racial injustices, before they made their way to their apartment. Courfeyrac wasn't home, probably already out somewhere with Jehan.

"I have some work for the next protest to get done," Combeferre said, turning towards his bedroom. He paused though, when he heard the sound of sniffling from behind him.

"Enjolras?" He questioned, seeing Enjolras curled up on the couch, tears rolling down his cheeks. Combeferre quickly made his way over, sitting down next to the blonde, and letting him sink into his arms. He rubbed Enjolras' back, as Enjolras took a few deep breaths, "What's the matter?" Combeferre enquired, Enjolras shrugging,

"I don't even know," He admitted. Combeferre placed the back of his palm on Enjolras' forehead, finding no abnormal temperature. He then thought of something,

"When was the last time you slept?" Combeferre asked, Enjolras shrugging at this question as well. Combeferre gave an understanding nod.

"C'mon," He said, pushing Enjolras to his feet. Enjolras gave him an inquisitive look.

"You, monsieur, are headed to bed." Enjolras gave a shout of protest, Combeferre crossing his arms,

"You may go willingly, or I will force you," He threatened. Enjolras gave him a petulant look,

"I am a full grown man, and I think I'm capable of making my own decisions-" Combeferre cut him off,

"Not when they're stupid decisions," He replied. Enjolras stalked into his bedroom, having enough common sense to know that he was going to end up there anyways, and that he may as well go there with as much dignity as he could muster. Combeferre gave an approving nod, walking into the room after Enjolras.

"I won't even be able to sleep, it's still daytime," Enjolras protested. And yet, he was out like a light the second his head touched the pillow, his angelic blonde curls practically glowing, as they sprawled out across the pillow. Combeferre gave Enjolras an amused smile, as the man had fallen asleep on top of the covers, and he gently lifted Enjolras up, tucking him in. Combeferre had learned to treasure the moments when Enjolras was asleep. Not because he liked it when his friend was quiet, but because he loved seeing his friend take a peaceful expression. Which only happened when he slept.

**4.**

Combeferre raised an eyebrow, as he heard the muffled coughs and sniffles Enjolras seemed desperate to hide from him across the table.

"Enjolras, I know you're ill. Grantaire literally just brought you home from work," Combeferre pointed out, giving Grantaire, who was sitting besides Enjolras at the table, a grateful look. Grantaire simply smiled in return.

"Why can't you just go to bed like a normal person, hm?" Grantaire enquired teasingly, kissing his boyfriend's flushed, and warm, Combeferre could imagine, cheek.

"I have stuff to do," Enjolras muttered, Combeferre wincing at the stuffy sound of his voice.

"How _eloquent_ ," Grantaire smirked, Enjolras rolling his eyes, and leaning his head against Grantaire's shoulder. Grantaire simply grinned, running his fingers through Enjolras' curls, looking as if there was no place in the world he'd rather be.

"Point is," Combeferre came in, resting his elbows on the table, "You should be resting Enjolras." Enjolras, of course, shooking his head,

"I'm not sick, It's just a cold," He protested, Combeferre crossing his arms and sighing,

"A cold is sick, Enjolras. And it's not just a cold," Combeferre argued.

"It's just a cold," Enjolras repeated, Combeferre begging God for patience.

"Then why are you shivering?" Combeferre enquired, Enjolras trying to make his limbs cease their shaking. His efforts were futile.

"It's cold in here," He defended, Combeferre shaking his head,

"No, it's not, the heat is on," He said. Enjolras frowned, Grantaire kissing his forehead,

"You feel warm," Grantaire murmured, Enjolras squirming out of Grantaire's reach.

"I am fine, and I will continue to be fine!" He affirmed, stalking off towards his bedroom. Combeferre sighed, turning towards Grantaire, who looked entirely calm at Enjolras storming out. He had certainly gotten used to it, as anyone close to Enjolras had to.

"You should go, now, don't you have a painting you need to be working on?" Combeferre said, as he examined the dishes that were in the sink of the kitchen, mentally debating whether they were worth washing now, or if he should wash them later.

"No, it's fine," Grantaire insisted, "I'm used to him being difficult." Combeferre gave Grantaire a light smile,

"I know, but we're not going to make any progress tonight. He seems dead-set on downplaying it," Combeferre informed the raven-haired man. Grantaire sighed, nodding,

"I know you're right. Maybe Enjolras was correct when he said you were always right." Combeferre rolled his eyes. Grantaire smirked,

"Actually, no, you can't always be right. After all, you think frozen dinosaur chicken nuggets count as an acceptable meal," Grantaire teased. Combeferre playfully waved a dish towel at Grantaire.

"Get out of my kitchen, you ridiculous man," He joked, Grantaire letting out a mock gasp,

"Oh, no I'm _so_ scared!" Grantaire exited the kitchen, stopping by the front door.

"Tell me if anything changes!" He ordered, Combeferre giving him a mock-salute, which was patriotically returned, with an added flare of drama, because, well, it was Grantaire. Combeferre finally decided that he was going to do the dishes, and he heard a loud coughing fit coming from Enjolras' room, much to his annoyance. Combeferre grabbed a red and white blanket from the living room couch, and opened the door to Enjolras' room, without knocking. The Triumvirate had no need of knocking any more. Or closed doors, really. Combeferre found Enjolras at his desk, of course, and tossed the blanket over his shivering frame, before leaving the room to do the dishes.

The rest of the day went by fairly easily, though Enjolras both refused the fact that he was obviously ill, and also refused to take any medicines, Courfeyrac returning home from work (Combeferre had one of his rare days off, that day), and making both Enjolras, and Combeferre happy. The night had gone quite well too, Combeferre falling asleep early. He had woken up to another life form in bed with him, that he had not fallen asleep with. Slightly confused over why his bed's population had doubled over the night, Combeferre sat up, grabbing his glasses from his nightstand, and glancing at the alarm clock. It was 7:30 am, a normal time for Combeferre to be awake. Combeferre then switched on his lamp, seeing Enjolras curled up next to him in bed. Combeferre sighed, though he was relieved that Enjolras was at least asleep. However, his sudden movements could not last for long against Enjolras' light sleeping, and Enjolras soon stirred.

" _Ferre_?" He rasped, his voice nearly gone. Combeferre sighed once more, pressing the back of his hand to Enjolrras' forehead, the heat he thought he'd feel most definitely present.

"Hey. Care to tell me why you're in my bed?" Combeferre enquired. He didn't mind the fact that Enjolras was, as he, Enjolras, and Courfeyrac would occasionally all sleep in the same bed for no reason other than they felt like it, but Enjolras rarely actively sought out anyone else's bed.

" _Everything hurts_ ," Enjolras whispered, Combeferre nodding,

"It would hurt less if you had simply taken something for it last night," He pointed out, Enjolras letting out a whimpering noise. Combeferre felt his heart sink at his friend's hurt expression. Combefere had said hadn't been offensive at all, but Enjolras was rather… Sensitive, when ill. Combeferre decided to save the lecturing for when his friends had a lower temperature, and he lay back down in the bed, curling his body around Enjolras, who was crying silently, struggling to breath through a clogged nose. Combeferre gently rubbed his best friend's back, as Enjolras' tears slowed down, and his breathing evened out. Enjolras then met Combeferre directly in the eyes, clearing his throat, before saying this,

" _Maybe I am sick_."

Combeferre resisted the urge to throw a pillow at Enjolras.

**5.**

Fourteen-year-old Alexandre Combeferre sat on his bed, on top of his blankets, all of which resembled some sort of planet or star from space. He was typing away on an essay for his science class, and was doing a rather fine job at it, if he did say so himself. Combeferre had always enjoyed doing schoolwork, and there, on his bed, with his headphones on, he felt at peace. And then, of course, the door had swung open.

"I did my laundry, _maman_!" Combeferre exclaimed. He expected to see his mother in the doorway, but was instead greeted with a blonde ten-year-old, "Enjolras, aren't you supposed to be downstairs?" Combeferre enquired. He had specifically asked his mother to keep both Enjolras and Courfeyrac, who he watched everyday in the mornings and after school, entertained while he did his homework, in return for him making dinner that night. Now, don't get him wrong, Combeferre loved looking after Enjolras and Courfeyrac. They were his best friends. Almost like his little brothers. But both boys could be extremely loud when they wanted to, and Combeferre desperately needed to finish his essay in peace.

"I escaped," Enjolras announced, climbing onto Combeferre's bed, and sitting next to Combeferre. Combeferre ruffled Enjolras beautiful blonde curls,

"Enjolras, I have an essay to finish," Combeferre began gently. He, Enjolras, and Courfeyrac had started calling each other by their last names for fun when they were playing war generals as younger children, and the habit had just stuck.

"Can I please watch you? I promise I won't make much noise!" Enjolras begged, Combeferre thinking it over,

"Okay, if you're quiet. And if maman starts searching for you, you need to go back to her," Combeferre decided, Enjolras grinning, and laying on the bed on his stomach, watching Combeferre's fingers skillfully hit the keyboard, as he typed quickly. Combeferre finished the essay 20 minutes later, and sent a reminder to his phone, so he would remember to print it out for school the next day. He then shut his laptop, placing it on his nightstand, before turning to Enjolras, who was still laying on the bed, staring at the wall. Combeferre put a gentle hand on Enjolras' shoulder, the younger boy slowly turning his head towards him.

"Hey, buddy, what's wrong?" Combeferre asked, Enjolras frowning, and not saying anything.

"Did something happen at school?" Combeferre enquired, Enjolras shrugging. There, he was on the right track…

"Did you get a bad grade?" Enjolras shook his head.

"Did you get hurt?" Another head shake.

"Was someone mean to you?" Nothing. Combeferre knew he had found what he was looking for.

"What happened?" Combeferre softly pressed, Enjolras staring down at Combeferre's space-themed blankets, tracing his fingers around the silhouette of an astronaut on the moon.

"They were right, you know," Enjolras whispered tearfully, wiping at an eye. Combeferre frowned,

"Who was right, Enj?" Enjolras shrugged,

"Some kids. They called me weird and mean," Enjolras murmured. Combeferre raised an eyebrow,

"...Which kids?" He slowly questioned, Enjolras rolling his eyes,

"Why? So you can go over there and give them a piece of your mind?" Enjolras joked, Combeferre smirking,

"That's exactly what I was planning on doing, my little friend," Combeferre replied, Enjolras giving him a horrified look. Combeferre chuckled,

"I'm just joking, calm down. What, though, is it suddenly uncool to have an 8th grader as your friend?" Enjolras huffed,

"Yeah, because I don't have any other friends," He murmured. Combeferre rubbed his back,

"Now, that's not true. You have Courfeyrac," He replied. Enjolras shook his head,

"That not the-" Enjolras' voice wavered for a second, and he looked like he would cry. He valiantly held the tears in, however, "That's not the same. It's like having your brothers as your best friends. I don't have any other friends because I'm weird and mean, like those kids said. Because I get angry at people, and because I talk about justice a lot." Combeferre pulled Enjolras close to him on the bed, his own hazel eyes staring into Enjolras' bright blue ones.

"Hey, you're not weird, or mean. You're just different, and that's okay," Combeferre reassured him. Enjolras shook his head,

"No, it's _not_. You don't understand!" His high-pitched voice rose to what could be mistaken for a mouse-squeak. Combeferre gave him a sad smile,

"Oh, but I do. I'm different like you, my friend, and I didn't have a single friend my age until I met Eponine and Cosette," Combeferre informed Enjolras, Enjolras giving him an incredulous look,

"But… You met Eponine and Cosette last year," Enjolras pointed out, Combeferre nodded,

"Yes, I did," Combeferre responded.

"So I'll be lonely forever?!" Enjolras exclaimed, obviously not getting the right take-away from what Combeferre had said,

"No, you won't. It might take some time, but you'll find plenty of friends." Enjolras wrinkled his nose,

"But I have to wait until I'm old? Like you?" Combeferre rolled his eyes, tickling Enjolras' side,

"I am _not_ old, you cheeky little chipmunk!" Combeferre exclaimed, Enjolras giggling, "Seriously, though. Everything will be okay, Enj. I love you," Combeferre whispered, Enjolras face crumpling, and quite a few tears slipping down his cheeks. He hadn't had the simple words, "I you," stated to him enough throughout his ten years of living. Combeferre was determined to change this. He held Enjolras in his arms, letting the little boy cry.

"Y'know, Ferre, I think you're my best friend," Enjolras declared with a sniffle, after a few minutes. Combeferre grinned,

"And you're mine," Combeferre responded, thinking for a second, "Just out of... Curiosity, who _were_ the kids who called you 'weird and mean'?"

"Nice try."

**+1**

Combeferre was known as the calm one of the group. That was his role. And he rarely left it. He was the peacemaker, the mediator. The one who kept Enjolras from murdering everyone. The "Group Therapist." That was him. Sometimes, though, he felt overwhelmed. Felt like he wasn't good enough for those roles. Combeferre was slightly hypocritical. He always encouraged his friends to come to him with their problems, but he was too scared to go to his friends with his own.

He had emerged from a stressful shift at the hospital, and had been anxious to go to bed and sleep, despite it being 6:00 pm. But he had come home to an empty refrigerator, and had gone out grocery shopping instead. Then he had come home once more to Courfeyrac and Enjolras, both of whom were overexcitable that particular day. Combeferre had waited a while for them both to settle down and head to bed before he went to his own, because he knew he would get no sleep while those two were awake. Then, just as he had been about to collapse in his bed, and close his eyes, he had remembered all of the writing about whatever social injustice that was due the next meeting, which was tomorrow. Combeferre had never been late with work for meetings before. And he didn't plan to be now.

And so, that was how he found himself working on writing at 1:08 in the morning, yawning every five seconds, it seemed. Every second he wanted to close his freaking laptop, and go back to sleep, but he didn't allow himself to. He had to finish the writing… For Enjolras… For his friends…

"Combeferre, what are you doing?" Enjolras walked into Combeferre's room, Combeferre wincing at the light, as Enjolras turned it on.

"I… What're you doing up?" Combeferre tried to divert the question. Enjolras crossed his arms,

"I was going to the bathroom, but I saw light coming from your room," He replied. Combeferre sighed, mentally scolding himself. He should have kept his room door closed, "What exactly are you doing?" Enjolras asked. Combeferre turned the laptop screen in Enjolras' direction, Enjolras squinting, and reading the text,

"Are these… The papers for tomorrow's meeting?" Enjolras enquired, Combeferre nodding. He hoped Enjolras would leave him to do his work. But Enjolras frowned instead,

"You shouldn't be doing those so late," He scolded, Combeferre giving Enjolras an incredulous look,

"Do you know yourself?" Combeferre asked. And it was truly a good question, due to the irony of the situation. Combeferre was usually the one trying to get an exhausted Enjolras to put down his work and sleep. Enjolras, anything but unnerved by Combeferre's comment, and pressed forward,

"See, I'm trying to do better, I'm getting sleep instead of working. You should do the same," Enjolras stated firmly. Combeferre just grumbled in response, his usually good judgement and temperament thrown out the window by the fatigue plaguing Comberferre's every essence of being, "Why are you even doing this now?" Enjolras asked. Combeferre let out a bitter chuckle,

"You think I _want_ to be doing this now? You think I _chose_ to be doing this now?!" Combeferre snapped, Enjolras backing up slightly.

"That's not what I was implying, Combeferre-"

"Because I didn't! I've had crazy work hours all week, and haven't had time… Then I had to do the groceries today, then you and Courf came back, and just when I was about to get some sleep, I remember this writing!" Combeferre exclaimed. Enjolras was frozen, for a moment. Combeferre felt hot and heavy tears prick in his eyes, and he let them fall, not knowing what the last time he had actually cried was. Crying had simply never fixed anything, so Combeferre had always seen it as useless. But his body was tired, and his normal guards weren't up.

Enjolras, meanwhile, had frozen even longer. He wasn't used to seeing Combeferre vulnerable. Combeferre was his rock, a constant, in his turbulent life. Always there, always with open arms. And he was crying. So Enjolras walked over, wrapping his arms around Combeferre's larger frame, Combeferre wrapping his arms around Enjolras as well.

"It's okay… I can cover for you at the meeting tomorrow, regarding the papers. Courfeyrac and I can do the groceries, and be quiet… And I can send a strongly worded letter to your bosses…" Enjolras murmured, Combeferre letting out a small chuckle in between sobs, and gasps for breath,

"Don't do that last one," He said, Enjolras smirking,

"Oh, I will." They sat together like that, wrapped up in each other's arms, for quite a while. That wasn't awkward though. Because they were friends. Best friends. Brothers.

**Author's Note:**

> I am SO sorry that I haven't posted in a while. Real life sucks, and all I've had time for is school work. On top of that, I basically got grounded for being too lesbian... So... 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed some cute Enjolras and Combeferre moments. That one where I made them kids just snuck it's way in there, XD. These two have entirely flooded my mind... 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!


End file.
